"I can't believe it's our last week working together."
Malia clocked in, walking up to the bar. "Yeah, I know. I'm gonna miss it."
"Miss the weirdos flirting with you or calling people cabs?" Brook asked, opening her station. "Or watching the dancers out of the corner of your eyes?"
"I don't need to watch them out of the corner of my eyes." Malia corrected, turning to blonde at the counter. "Hey, Sarah. What can I help you with?"
"Just a sprite tonight." Sarah said. "Thank you."
Malia turned to the mini fridge, retrieving the can of soda. "No Sex on the Beach? I'm shocked."
"Nope. I'm done drinking." She said, sliding her card across the bar. "How much do I owe you?"
"Just 3.50, honey." The bartender quipped, swiping the card. "That's great for you. So, I won't be seeing you much anymore?"
Sarah shook her head. "Not much, but you'll see me. I have friends that still like to hang out here."
"Alrighty. Well, good luck again." Malia slid her card back, moving on to the next person. "How can I help you tonight, sir?"
The light skinned guy across the counter looked up as he tucked his phone away. "Can I just get a water, please?"
"You can." After swiftly sliding the water bottle across the bar, Malia glanced over to see how Brooklyn was doing only to find the girl staring at her. She placed her hands on her hips, walking over to Brooklyn to see what was wrong now.
"That's Killian Hayes." Brook said, pointing subtly at the guy who requested the water. "Look at how attractive he is."
Malia was confused. "Who?"
"He's a basketball player."
"Oh, God. Brooklyn..." The 22 year old said, facepalming. "We already hang around enough NBA players. Please, don't be stupid."
Brook glanced over Malia's shoulder. "He's adorable."
"He looks like a child."
Malia wasn't going to entertain Brooklyn and her antics tonight because she just didn't have the time. She was already intertwined in a predicament with a certain point guard from the Memphis Grizzlies. That alone was confusing enough to deal with, let alone getting involved with another point guard.
"Miss?" Killian called.
"What's up?"
Killian sat his phone on the bar. "You think you can get me a Vodka Cranberry, please?"
The 22 year old scanned his hands for the stamp they give you at the door on his hand that signifies he was under the legal drinking age but didn't see one, making her smile in his direction. "Can I see your ID, please? Sorry."
"Nah. You're all good." Killian laughed, pulling the card from his wallet. "Here ya' go."
Malia smiled. "21. Cool. Sorry, you just look really young."
"You good."
She made the drink pretty quickly, sliding it over to him. "Do you want this on your tab or is this your last drink for the night?"
"This my last one." He said, watching her print his receipt. "My driver is about to here."
Malia nodded, impressed as he handed over his card. "A responsible 21-year old. Knows his boundaries and has a driver."
"Thanks." Killian chuckled.
When Malia handed him the receipt to sign, he left a $300 tip for the restaurant the $300 in cash for Malia. She saw and laughed, looking up at him. "You should've given this to the dancers."
